Cindersmella
by Mini Mimm
Summary: When Lydia's father has to leave for two months, Lydia is left not only with her step-mother, Delia, but with her rival, Claire Brewster, as a room-mate! it's okay though, because Lydia meets a certain Ghost With The Most who might be able to help. A loose Cinderella parody. Please Read and review so that I know if I should carry on writing or just give up.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: HEY! This is my first fanfic, so reviews are welcome! sorry it's so short, but there is more! I will finish this story, I promise!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, characters all belong to Tim Burton!

Cindersmella

Chapter one.

"I'm sorry, Pumpkin, but I _have _to leave! It'll only be for a few months!" Lydia Deetz's father, Charles, sighed. "You won't be alone! Delia will be here and she said that because her father is going somewhere else for a bit too, your friend Claire can stay with us!" he took her hands in his and shifted so that he was facing her. They were both sitting on the deep purple comforter of Lydia's bed, and she, having just received the news that her father was going on a business trip to New York, was not happy. Left alone with her clueless stepmother, Delia? And with Claire?! Shows how much _they_ knew.

Lydia and Claire were not, and never will be, friends. She was hell-bent on that. They were total opposites; Claire being vain, arrogant, and mean, and Lydia was her usual target. Lydia _knew _she wasn't liked, and Claire loved more than anything, (except, of course, herself,) to rub it in.

Delia didn't understand her either, or her obsession with the dark and morbid. Always telling her to brighten up, and wear something other than black, red or purple, Delia ended up giving up and just ignoring her. This, to some extent, was probably the reason that Lydia spent most of her time either in her room, or in the Peaceful Pines local cemetery. Lydia _knew _no-one understood her.

Her father needed this trip though. He was constantly worrying about something-or-other, and recently, Lydia's lack of company was near the top of his list. Lydia _knew_ that she hadn't grown up into the thirteen year old that her father probably wanted her to be.

"Pumpkin? Lydia? Is it okay if I leave?" she was snapped out of her depressing train of thought by her father, looking at her with clear concern on his face, gripping her shoulders lightly.

"Um… yes, father, its fine. I'm sure I'll manage." She smiled reassuringly, and he got up. As he reached the door, he turned around.

"H…hey, Pumpkin, do you want some ice-cream?"

"Please!" she grinned. He left to get the food.

* * *

Light flooded Lydia's vision through the tall window, and she groaned. Another sleepless night. Great. She threw the comforter off, and looked at herself in the lilac vanity mirror she had acquired. The dark circles around her eyes contrasted greatly with the milky tone of her skin. Her raven hair was ruffled and knotted, but she didn't really care. She manoeuvred her way around the room, grabbing the various cloths she would need for today. The day her Father would leave her stranded with her step-mother and her rival, both oblivious and unobservant, with around the IQ of a brainless zombie.

She went into the bathroom, showered and changed, tugging her hair with a brush and tying it up in a messy, gravity-defying ponytail, held in place by a purple ribbon. She wore a short purple dress, with black leggings underneath and a pink/purple sash over the dress, matching her hair ribbon. It wouldn't usually be pink; it was just to shut Delia up. She bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen, fixing herself a sandwich.

"Oh, hey Pumpkin." Her father stood in the doorway. "I have to leave in a minute. It's nearly nine o'clock."

"Okay. Dad. I'll miss you." Lydia hugged him, and half an hour later, after tearful goodbyes, he was gone.

* * *

It was about eleven when Claire Brewster, Miss popularity, showed up at Lydia's door.

"Like, hey Freak! Like, I can't wait to see the inside of this horrible stink-hole, Lydia!" her voice was high-pitched, and very annoying. she pushed past Lydia and three men in overalls, probably employed by Claires parents, did too, holding several large pink bags.

"where to, Miss Brewster?" one of them grunted.

"like, just dump them on the floor over there!" Claire snapped, pointing to the middle of the living room.

Lydia sighed. this was going to be a _**long, long** _two months.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Well, she wasn't wrong. Life with Claire had been Hell. First, Claire had insisted that she have the bed, and Lydia would sleep on the floor. She then proceeded to cover all the walls with sickening posters of boy bands, rom-com adverts, and everything else Lydia tended to despise. Her room, usually dark and vampire-esque, was now a haven of everything girly. Delia had said nothing, and, in fact encouraged this, hoping that Claire's sickly-sweet attitude would rub off on Lydia. Claire's attitude was not, in fact, 'sweet and caring' as she made Delia believed, but horrid and narcissistic. Needless to say, Lydia had since taken to leaving her room, and often the house, between nine a.m. and about eight p.m. (these were the times Claire would have her 'beauty sleep'.) Lydia would, instead, cycle around town and visit the cemetery, to draw or take photos.

"Hey, De-"Lydia caught herself. She had found that it was easier to get what she wanted by occasionally showing a little affection to her step-mother. "_Mom_, can I watch a monster movie tonight?"

Claire cut in. "Like, Lydia, why don't you watch this with me?" Claire held up the reflective disc. It had no logo on, so Lydia couldn't tell what it was.

"Why, that's a _brilliant_ idea Claire! You can have a movie night! Like a slumber party! I need to go out, but I'm sure you'll be fine for a bit, right girls?" Delia's voice went up several notes at the word 'brilliant'.

"But Delia-"

"Come on Lydia! Like, let's watch the movie!" Claire shrieked. "Bye Mrs Deetz!" she dragged Lydia into the living room, as Delia grabbed her coat and bag and left.

Once Delia had left, Claire shoved the disc in Lydia's hands. "Right, Slave, Freak, put it into the player. And get me some popcorn."

"No."

"No? NO?" she shrieked. "Like, you'll do what I tell you to because I'm better than you, Deetz, and unlike you, I'm beautiful and perfect. And you, you just have problems" Then, she hit Lydia.

Feeling the burning mark on her face, Lydia glared a glare that could raise the dead, only to send them back to the grave. "No!" she screamed, and ran out the door. She needed to think. It wasn't like Claire hadn't hit her before, but never that hard. It was only when she slammed the door and got her bike that she realised she had forgotten her coat, and it was freezing.

"Well, definitely not going back in there." She said to herself as she cycled to the solid iron gates of the cemetery. She dismounted, and couldn't hold the tears back any longer. No-one understood her, or was willing to sympathise. She practically threw her bike down and stormed towards the far side of the graveyard, where she knew a rotting bench sat. When she was about half way, however, she tripped over something unnoticed. She yelped and fell, spraining her ankle.

She couldn't hold anything back anymore. She laid there, her ankle full of pain, sobbing uncontrollably. "Maybe I belong here. In the mud, with the worms. Maybe I _do _have problems." Then, as if some magical, yet spiteful force decided to make her life worse, it started to rain. "Great." She mumbled, still sobbing quietly. Maybe there was some divine force, somewhere, that thought her problems were hilarious, and liked to see her cry. She hadn't cried since her mother died. The memory, or rather, the lack of memory Lydia had of her mother just made her cry more. She was briefly aware of the fact that she was shaking, both because of the cold earth and air, partly because it was becoming increasingly difficult to breath.

Then, something caught her eye. A shimmer of green, seemingly from nowhere. She looked up at the gravestone, pitch black with ruby red engravings. Set in the top was a brilliant green stone that was… glowing…in the moonlight. The engraving was just one word.

"Betelgeuse?" the name seemed familiar. "Betelgeuse…" A star, perhaps? Yes, that was it. In Orion. That's a bit of a weird name, though. Betelgeuse-"

As soon as the last syllable left her lips, she felt quite a bit colder, and began to shake again. She buried herself in a tight foetal position, to preserve heat. Little did she know that those three words just changed her life.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Lydia suddenly got the alarming sense that she wasn't alone. The uncanny feeling of being watched. This frightening feeling heightened when she heard a twig snap behind her. She turned around, pushing herself to her feet, only to stumble on her ankle. She yelped and winced in pain, almost falling to her knees again.

"Who…who's there?" the fear was dominant in her voice, and she was ashamed. And covered in mud.

At first she just saw the two green circles, glowing, piercing her soul. She focused on them, as the rest of who…or _what_ever was staring at her.

"You already know my name, babes. You said it to call me here."

"your name is Betel-" she didn't get to finish, as suddenly, using skills and speed that would make a ninja look like a snail, he was behind her, his clammy, yet frigid hand round her mouth.

"Not so fast kid. Say it three more times and I go back home."

She gulped. "Wh…where is that exactly?"

He chuckled. It was deep and throaty, and he let go of her shoulders and appeared in front of her. "The Neitherworld. Of course."

"Neitherworld? Like…like, Underworld? For dead people?"

He just smirked and nodded.

"S…so… does that mean _you're_ a ghost?"

"No, I'm your _fairy godmother_." He snapped sarcastically. But then he grinned. "I'm the Ghost with the Most, babes. Your turn."

"For what?" she stepped away a bit, never taking her brown eyes off his green ones.

"To answer questions. Why were you lying in the mud of a graveyard, in front of _my _gravestone?"

"well, I didn't know it was your grave. I'm sorry. Um… do you want me to send you back and we can both go back to whatever we were doing?"

"Hells no, Babes! Answer the other questions."

"Um…because I…" she sighed and sat back down. "Because I feel like dirt." She wiped another tear away.

"whyyyyy?" he asked, not unlike a toddler. So, she explained to him. She explained how she'd been alone since her mother died. She explained how no-one understood her. She explained how people hated her, _especially_ Claire. When she finished she looked up at him.

At some point in her story, he'd flipped upside down. He didn't interrupt, but thought intently of her words. She didn't care if he was dead, but was just glad that someone was listening. When she stopped, he flipped the right way up.

"Babes. You don't belong in the dirt. You're better than that Claire twerp. I've only known ya for five minutes, but I can tell that you're a great person. Hell, I don't even know your name. Now, you need to get back in there, and beat Claire's a-

"Lydia. My name's Lydia. I'm sorry." She giggled that was the first time she'd properly laughed in ages. "Come with me?" she asked sheepishly, blushing slightly.

He inhaled sharply. "well, babes, I dunno…" his deep-in-thought frown quickly de-materialized into an ear-to-ear grin. Literally. He giggled again, and he grasped her hand. "C'mon, Lyds. Let's go kick some Claire!"

She led him back to her house on the hill, and she quietly opened the door, relieved to find it unlocked. Evidently, Delia was not back yet, and Claire sat, swooning in front of a Rom/com film.

"Hey, Claire." Lydia said offhandedly, grabbing the remote while Claire stared at her reflection in a pink hand mirror and flipping the channel. A monster movie. "Cool." Lydia grinned and sat on the sofa.

Claire gasped, looking up from the mirror in her hand. "Like, Deetz, while I'm here it's _my _TV, _my _remote, and I get to choose what we watch. _ I _say we watch a romance!"

Lydia felt Betelgeuse whisper to her, "boy, she really is a spoiled brat, isn't she?!" Black and white stripes appeared on the mirror, apparently BJs signature. A sing-song voice drifted from the mirror. "Oh, Claire…"

She froze, and brought the mirror up to her face slowly. "Hey, Claire!" her reflection cackled. "You look worse that a zombie!" then there was a screeching noise, and Claire bolted up the stairs, screaming.

He cackled, and jumped out of the mirror, punching the air in victory. "What did you do?!" Lydia giggled

"Oh, I gave her a zit!" he chuckled.

"Thank you, Beej." She smiled at him. He looked taken aback. "what?"

"No-one's thanked me in over a century, Babes. And a nick-name too…guess it's jus' a good day!" he chuckled, shrugging off her dis-believing stare.

Then, she yawned.

"Whoa, Babes! Ya must be tired, that was louder than a sandworm!"

"Wha-?"

"Oh. Never mind." He clicked his fingers, and a note appeared in her hand. "Lyds, read that when ya need to get away for a while, okay? I gotta split," saying so, he split into two.

She laughed. "Pull yourself together, Beej!"

He did. "Three B-words, Babes?"

"Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse!" there was a puff of smoke, and he was gone.

She shut the TV off, and climbed the stairs. Claire, surprisingly, was on the Air-mattress Lydia had been using. Deciding not to question her, Lydia got changed and slumped onto the bed. _Her _bed. She slowly drifted off into a dreamful sleep, full of ghosts and mirrors.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

A/N: This chapter is really long compared to the others, but I wasn't sure if I should half it somewhere, and if so, where to split it. Please read and review so I know if I should stop. Thanks to ILive4theFantasy for reviewing. Review beetleburgers for you!

Disclaimer: again, sadly, I don't own any of the characters in the story, an' I don't own the plot either, unless it's so far off that I do. Which it isn't. Hopefully.

Read on and enjoy!

The smell of burnt flooded Lydia's senses as she woke up. She instantly panicked, and flew downstairs and into the kitchen/diner. Standing there, leaning against a counter and smiling, was Delia, a bowl of cereal in her hands. A burnt frying pan sat in the sink, smoke peeling off it as it soaked in the cold water.

"Mom…why does it smell of bacon?" Lydia questioned sceptically.

Delia sighed and the 'innocent' act instantly fell. "Well, Lydia, I was going to surprise you and your friend with bacon and eggs, but…I…I think the oven-yes that's it! The oven is broken…?" it sounded like more of a question than an excuse, and Delia stood there badly disguising her pained expression, probably praying that Lydia bought it.

Just to humour her, Lydia nodded. "Ah. I see." She then crossed the room, and reached for the cereal. "I'm going out again today, Mother, I don't want to…*ahem* _disturb_ Claire."

Delia just sighed, slightly angrily. "Okay, Lydia, dear. I suppose I can't stop you."

…

After breakfast Lydia crept upstairs, and grabbed her clothes. She got changed, making sure that she kicked Claire lightly, just enough to wake her up, on the way out.

Claire mumbled something that sounded like, "you'll pay for that, Deetz…" but she rolled over and went back to sleep. Grabbing the note Betelgeuse had given her, she set off to the graveyard. The walk was uneventful, passing only a few people, even fewer that she knew. She tugged open the Iron Gate to the cemetery, making sure to close it behind her.

Seeking shade under a large and ancient oak tree in the corner of the field, she began to read aloud.

"Though I know I should be wary," a bird moved in the leaves above her. "Still, I venture someplace scary! Ghostly haunting, I turn loose," she was unaware that her voice had grown unsteadily from a whisper as she progressed, "Beetlejuice, _Beetlejuice_,_**Beetlejuice**_!"

There was a flash of blood-red lightening, and everything was covered in shadows. Lydia gasped when her clothes were replaced with a black t-shirt and leggings, covered by a red poncho that was decorated with a black spider web pattern. The space around her changed dramatically, and she was now on some type of floating island. The sky around her was seemingly endless, and with no horizon, the red-orange-yellow sky surrounded the islands, and the weird houses on them. The buildings were bent in a way that shouldn't have been possible, but the weirdest by far was a stout-ish building, with a glowing Neon sign that read 'BJ's Roadhouse'. It was connected to the main island by a rickety strip of corrugated iron.

She crossed tentatively, and rang the bell. A low drone echoed through the building, and one of the large pink double doors swung open.

"Oui?" a skeleton, in red shorts, a blue t-shirt and red beret answered.

"Um…excuse me, but…where am I?"

The skeleton looked taken aback. "Why, miss, you are in bee-jay's road'ouse!"

"No, I mean…where is this?" Lydia gestured around and behind her.

"Oh! Sacre blue! Zis iz ze Neizerworld, miss…"

"Oh. Lydia. My name is Lydia." She shook his bony hand.

"I am Jacques Lalean, French skeleton!"

Just then, a rather familiar voice from inside screamed something that sounded like, "hey, close the door! We ain't buyin' nuffin'!"

"Who was that?" Lydia asked.

"Zat was Be-atlejoose, 'e lives 'ere you're here to complain, I am terribly sorry-"

"I _said, _close the damn d-" Beetlejuice came up behind the skeleton, shoving him away. "Babes! You're here!" then, he tugged her inside.

She yelped, more out of surprise than anything else. Then she pulled away from him. "Beetlejuice, is this really the Neitherworld?"

"Yep!" he grinned.

"Does that mean I'm dead?"

"What? No! Babes, ya fine!"

"What happened then?"

"Ya said that chant, and ya brought yourself here. Good, too, 'cause I wanted ta ask ya somethin'."

"What?" She'd calmed down, if only slightly, and he started to float, as if there were a chair underneath him.

"There's this thing, kinda like a party, down at the Prince's place tonight… wanna come with me? Ya can only stay 'till midnight, 'cause then my magic wears out an' sends ya back ta your world."

"Um…sure, beej, I'll come, I guess…"

"Great!" he punched the air in victory. "'till then, we can hang around the Shockin' mall!"

…

Dusk fell, quite literally, like a backdrop change. When Lydia exited the roadhouse, Beetlejuice was waiting in the driver seat of what seemed to be a giant pumpkin, but on wheels and with headlights and bumpers. The headlights, on second glance, were eyes, the bumpers gracing the pumpkin car with a large grin.

"Babes, your carriage awaits!" he zapped the door closest to her open, and she got in.

"Deadly-vu!" she gasped. He just smirked and drove.

When they stopped, they were outside a slumped-looking castle. The way the towers and turrets sagged gave it a very depressing feel. "Here we are Babes, Prince Vince's castle."

"Wow!" she giggled as he helped her out.

"Nah, not really…he's a lil' depressing." An unseen force pressed Beetlejuice to the ground, before he sprung back up like an accordion. "Let's go inside." He smiled, and jumped towards the door, half leading, half dragging Lydia with him.

Somewhere between the castle gates and doors, Beetlejuice changed back to his (ab)normal self. As they approached the doors, which were large, nearly taking up the whole wall. Two blue-skinned, red clad guards, who looked more like rectangles with arms and legs and tall red hats stood either side, peered down at them, but made no effort to stop them.

"Oh, and, Babes, the Living aren't really aloud here, so, um…if ya touch anyone, cold thoughts, yeah?" Not giving her time to react to this, he grabbed her hand and tugged her through the castle.


End file.
